When I tell people I’m a poet, I say it’s my hidden talent
I hide my soul, page after page in a poet’s lament
Straight from the heart with passion too
I tell them my words I know are true

If they look closely, they can see me on a line
If they get between the lines, no telling what they’ll find
They might see me crazy, funny or see my depression
They may see that it’s just passive aggression

Sometimes when I share my words with them
They don’t know it’s my way of letting them in
To see me with my passion and heart
To share my pain from the start

I give some away in cheap picture frames
Memories of times, places and names
I hope that they read them with an open mind
I hope it takes them back to times left behind